Mirroring my situation--Warning: Religious Post

On Sunday this week, I went to church again...at the same church that is very near to my house. The closest one was a Pentecostal church, but I was on foot so I didn't figure that I had a right to be too choosy. It turned out to be more than I expected...and significantly less than the horror stories I've heard about these types of churches. But all that is another rant for another day, and possibly for never since I've realized that I don't mind the church that much.

Well this Sunday the Pastor was telling us the parable of the laborer in Matthew: 20. It's basically (summation to follow for those who won't read it) God realizing that he needed workers for his vineyard. So he hires workers in the morning. He offers to pay them the "normal fair wage" for their work for the whole day. But throughout the day, he continues to hire more and more workers realizing that there was much more work to be done and not enough workers. Also realizing that there were plenty of "people (men)" about who weren't employed in doing hard work, because they hadn't been hired (picked) yet. At the end of it, there were some people who were hired only an hour before the day was at its end. And god paid all the men the same wage. The men who had been working all day were displeased and questioned him, and finally he answered saying basically, you say I'm being unfair but have I not paid you what I promised I would pay you? Did I not say to you at the beginning of the day that I would pay you this much for you full day of work? Well....yes. So who are you to judge me if I decide to be generous with my money with those men who haven't worked all day long?

It's a pointless argument because nobody can tell somebody else how to divulge the gifts that they have been given. If you make an agreement with one man and you keep it, what gives them the right to tell you that you cannot also give the same to somebody else--even if they think that that person isn't worth it. If I choose to heal a man who has been hurting for years on end with the same affliction and it only takes me 10 minutes; how can he tell me that I have no right to take 3 hours to heal somebody who has only been in pain for a single day? Who has a right to judge worth?

NOBODY!!! Nobody but the higher power that controls us all.

Also that day, the pastor told us about how being picked last doesn't mean that were worth any less in our gods' (my edit, not actual word used) eyes just because we didn't find our faith until much later in life than the man who sits next to us who found his faith at age 2.

Sidenote: I saw a 2 or 3 year old child in church on Sunday who spent the whole first part of the service (until they were called away to "children's church") kneeling down at the altar of the church and crying, with her hands in the prayer motion. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen: a child that young who had found her faith so clearly and openly--she just knew! Wow! Then it was followed by the most disturbing thing (s) I'd ever seen: two people, her mother and her sister, tried to pull her away from doing it and get her to sit back down. It was appalling to me...two people who claimed to be "saved" (I hate that term, but that's the one Baptist/Pentecostal churches use) were trying to keep a young woman from practicing her faith the way she was called to do. The little girl slapped them both and refused to sit down! I can't even imagine what would have happened to me if my Mom had treated me like that when I was that young--not to say that I was kneeling and crying in church at that age, but I was well aware of my gifts by like the age of 5, and if my parents had discouraged it the way this family did...I doubt I'd be where I am today. And I seriously doubt that I would have come as far as I've managed to come on my journey.

Back to topic....

Everybody may be called by the higher power to do different things at different times, and just because somebody else doesn't think we're worth the trouble, doesn't mean we aren't. Just because we were the last one picked by god to do something great, doesn't mean we deserve any less than the first guy who was picked; it doesn't mean that we won't accomplish more in a single week than the first guy picked could accomplish in 20 years. The point is: IT DOESN'T MATTER!!!

Then the pastor called for people who felt that they were picked for something great by our loving gods (my word), who were destined to achieve great things and do great things for love (of all things or only some parts--again my interpretation). And I knew that at that moment, god was calling for me...the pastor kept asking, but I wasn't brave enough to go up in front of everybody; not brave enough to let the judging eyes of others see me and look down at me for it...but after the service, I was still crying (I always cry in church lately, I can't stop it from happening--I don't know why) and I walked up to where the pastor was and told him that he was calling for me that day, but I couldn't walk out in front. So we prayed--I believe that prayer is no different that spell casting, and I do both! (different situations call for different armies with different skills).

I put my hands up (in the "witches" stance--in my head) and asked to be told how I could help, cuz I didn't know any way that I, with no car and no job, could help...and later that night the gods delivered her to me. And I knew that I was supposed to help her...even though the help I could offer was not much. I knew because she had just walked a long way, from a car accident that totaled her car (van), that happened at night, which left her very freaked out and without any help...that she had been sent into the Goth night to meet me. One of my very good friends introduced her to me...I don't know why she did that, but she did. And then the good friend walked off and thought nothing of this girl after that.

....So I've taken on a boarder, and though she's offered several times, I'm not charging her rent or for food (I like having someone to cook for anyhow)...and I've decided to let her stay with me until...

until I can't stand her anymore, until she figures out how to get back on her feet again, until she finds somewhere else to stay, until she doesn't need the help anymore, until I leave for basic, until she makes me regret having extended my kindness by being treacherous with me...whichever she needs, until...

I don't know how long it will be, or how quickly she will figure out that she doesn't really need my help. But I feel like I owe it to pay back to the world and the gods who have blessed me with so much to give something to somebody else besides my selfish self. When that almost exact same situation happened to me, I was provided for...it's only fair that I should provide it for somebody else if I have the means...and I do. Even if what I have to give back is less than what was given to me...at least it's helping her.

On the walk back from the pharmacy today, she realized something...and I felt like I had maybe helped her in some way. She told me about it just as we were approaching my front door again...she said, "I know it sucks, but I guess I just have to make the most of it. I have to be happy with what I do have, even if it isn't much."

There ya go! That's the right attitude to have!

...it took me about that long to realize the same thing after my accident: maybe I don't have much right now...but I'm still blessed, because I'm still alive and I still have friends who love me. What more could a girl need, really?

snip-its of letters I wrote today

i know now that god let whatever it was...push my car off the road, because he wanted me to be exactly where i am now...he let chaos take away my car but not my life...he let it happen, but saved me because i still have things to do on earth. i know that now...and i'm not sad anymore about the loss of my car, or the most recent loss of my good friend mary--she's not dead, but we will not be friends anymore.

and do not feel ashamed or feel that you wronged me in any way because you could not stand up to legion when he came to you. i am not mad at you, and do not think less of you because of it. i know how powerful he is, i've always known--well for as long as he's been following me--i'm just happy he did not do anything worse to you. I am really the one who should apologize and feel ashamed...because i'm the one who put you in the situation for that to happen. i'm sorry for that and i hope that you'll forgive me for trying to give my burden to you.

i think we're all a little sick of gettin our hearts broken, i've actually decided to become one of the "unlaid" ranks myself...i just don't want to be that intimate with somebody who doesn't really care about me anymore...i can't take it. I want somebody to really love me again...i miss that.

getting into school while working is a very difficult feat to accomplish, but if it's what you really want to do...i know that you will be able to do it. keep heart! and know that all of our burdens are laid on us for a reason (not that you didn't know that already) and even when it's hard...remember to keep the goal in mind...always! that was the hardest part for me about staying in/getting back into school: it was very difficult to see the end result, while all you're doing is treading water....just keep breathing deep and keep your head above water...the place where you're supposed to end up, will eventually show up in the distance.

i'm really glad god decided that i couldn't leave for basic until much later than i wanted to leave b/c now i'll get to see all my army friends before i leave...which will make me very happy.

well, yeah pretty much that's all the new stuff...there was lots more that happened in the last year, but i've covered the basics...this is where i am now...not where i've been, i think that's a much more positive way to begin things again. not to drudge up all the crap that's happened to me over the past year or so...and instead just be honest with myself and with you about where i am right now.

love ya always
angel

Random Factoids

This morning at 10:08 am, I received the following text from a friend of mine:

I talked to the minister :((

I got our
(page down)
reservation set up :D

I love you!

I replied back with confusion only to find that he had sent it to me on accident. I don't believe in accidents. So I replied back with:

You don't find that even slightly ironic?

He then called me to explain that he meant to send it to his financee and accidently sent it to me instead. We talked about it for a while. He thought I was sad to get it because it wasn't actually supposed to be directed towards me...sorry, that's not it boy! I think it's ironic that you sent the message to me instead of to your financee about getting the wedding set up. I don't believe in coincendences. If it were me, I would have taken it as a sign...and I said as much to him. He just laughed.

Does anybody else find this as ironic as I do? Would everybody else brush this off as if nothing were wrong?

................................................
In other news, several days ago the rocket scientists at my apartment complex decided to repaint the tennis court next to my apt....black! They left it like that for several days with no lines painted on it and the nets still down.

Has anybody ever heard of a tennis court being any other color besides green? Or, on rare occasion, red? I haven't...but I have been laughing about this for the past few days.

Now today, the court is painted green, again--same color it was before they "repainted" it in the first place--and the lines are back on the court. I haven't left the house much lately, so I find it odd that today it's green again and I never saw them paint over the black. I'm sure I would have noticed though, since it took them all day to paint it black on the first day of painting. Can anybody else help me explain this?
..................................................

Also, today while I was running I saw my baby's cousin just sitting out in the parking lot of the apartment complex next to mine. She was beautiful and almost the exact same as mine was, only in a sparkly burgundy red! I smiled as she shined and sparkled in the sunlight...and felt a little pang of sadness that mine was gone.
..................................................

And another thing....(hehehe)

I just want to restate the obvious fact that I'm sure everybody already knows (slightly sarcastic/teasing tone)...and that is: Propel Fitness Water is waaayyy better than Powerade. I used to love Powerade right after a good workout; Gatorade always tasted way to weird for me to be able to drink it--too sugary I think or something. Anyways, back to the point Propel: It's what's for Lunch! *nah, that sounds terrible* ...Propel: not just for after workout anymore! *humm...nope* Ok fine...Propel: It's better for you than Powerade! *Yeah, that works* That's why I switched though...it has more vitamin content than Powerade and no artificial dyes to make it "look pretty". Both Propel and Powerade taste "ok" to me, neither is like a trip to the all-you-can-eat buffet (meaning, I wouldn't want to drink them just for shits and giggles) but neither offends me as much as Gatorade always did. And to think, I never would have tried Propel if not for a certain person having nothing else in his fridge one morning, because it was made by Gatorade--and I was prejudiced. Yeah, I said it!

It's better for me, cuz it has more vitamins and is made with natural flavorings and has no colors added...that's why I switched so long ago. I needed to replenish the vitamins that were leached out of my body during my running routine.

*ad announcement voice*
!!!NOW ON SALE!!! in your local shoppette on post. You can get two for only *drumroll* $1.18 *quiet fast voice* with the in store coupon only.

Bright new day (PMB)

I woke up the next morning in his bed, curled up very tightly with him. I was still a little disoriented by the events of the previous night. The details were a little fuzzy by the light of day, but not because I was too drunk and don't remember the night before. It was totally different; the images in my head were unclear because I couldn't convince myself that they had actually happened. I remember them very clearly happening, but by morning, I had begun to try and explain them away.

Waking up in his bed made for one of the best beginnings to a day that I had had in a good while. He was so delicate with me, so tender. Strong hands caressing my face and smiling at me like he still couldn't believe I was actually there. I was, and so was he...that was the miracle of it all. It did happen! Both of us knew that it did actually happen. Looking in his eyes made me want to crumple up again into his arms and never leave. Neither of us had any intention of denying it or apologizing for it with the morning light glaring in at us, almost blinding us. He knew and I knew, there was magic afoot the night before. We laid together too long that morning because we didn't want to let go. We talked about going out to get something to eat, but it never worked around to happening. In fact, we didn't even look away from each other for the longest time; both searching the other's eyes for the truth contained within the other.

..."Yes, it was real," both of our eyes shouted while practically jumping around like a child on a trampoline: happy, carefree, giggly.

Then finally, when it was nearly time for me to be at work--and I still hadn't eaten anything yet--I left. I had to, I knew that. Didn't keep me from wishing that I could call in sick that day though.

The day outside was clear and bright and almost warm. It was the kind of day that reminds me of Spring, a nice clear sunny day with just a touch of a cool breeze about. It was the most beautiful day I had seen in I don't know how many months. The breeze chilled my skin a little, and I smiled. I smiled the smile that said, "Wow, what a wonderful day." Odd that it should happen in the midst of a fairly cold winter for this area; odd that it should remind me so much of late Spring. It did though. I thought of running through fields of daises and hay in late Spring. I thought the inevitable thought of assurance, on days like this, that Summer is coming soon with its dreadful heat. Only in this case, it wasn't true. Summer was some 4 to 5 months away. But this day brought hope with it: hope for the future of my life that I had just about given up on lately. Hope that maybe...just maybe...I'd found something good again.

"How very odd that this day should come right after such a beautiful and confusing evening!" I thought out loud. "What a perfect way to begin a brand new year!"

And it was. It was the first day of the New Year.

When I met him the night before, I was at a point in my life when I had given up hoping that love could find me. I had lost so many beautiful people in my life and, admittedly, I was very jaded. I didn't think I'd ever find a person who could bring the magic of attraction and desire back into my life, or any other magic for that matter. I was convinced that I had already met all the people who were going to do that for me, and they had already left me. All of them left for different reasons, I had to tell myself constantly, but it amounted to the same thing. None of them wanted ME. I had accepted it. Coming to terms with reality makes us free in a way that nothing else can. I was totally free that night: I wasn't looking for anything at all. Very likely, that's why something found me.

New Year's Eve and I had to work. No surprise there, I had worked every holiday at this job for the past few years. I was the only one who didn't care; I didn't have any family nearby and I didn't have "anybody special" in my life, so everybody assumed that I "didn't mind" because I "had nothing better to do." Well, so what? It was true. Sue me. Luckily, we closed early that night--secretly I was a bit hurt by working on New Year's, I really did want something better to do that night.

I ended up going out with one of my best male friends that night, but since we were leaving later than most party-goers, we were trying not to pay a cover for the evening. That alone, is why we selected The "Bar" (name changed), but even there, we had to pay a cover. The band sounded good though, so we decided to just suck it up and pay cover, since I was too lazy to drive around looking for a different place, and he was already too drunk to care. Besides, the cover wasn't as outrageous as it was at other clubs in town.

Walking around looking for familiar faces and finding none, I decided to just go back and sit with my friend. On my way down the stairs, somebody called my name--my real one!

"Shit!! Probably somebody I don't want to talk to..." I thought. Glancing over toward where the call had come from, "Sure enough...Man, I hate being right!"

"Oh hi, " I smiled--possibly the fakest smile ever.

"Do you remember me?"

"Of course I do, you're the really obnoxious annoying guy that used to work with me," I thought. But instead said..."Yeah, from work right? I'm sorry though, I've forgotten your name," trying to be polite.

"Yeah that's ok, I remember yours..." he trailed off. Actually, I stopped listening...a man was offering me his hand to help me down the stairs. "Interesting, but no thanks," I heard in my head.

"Well, if you're gonna see me outside of work," I continued to Work Boy, "you should know that everybody calls me Angel."

"But the thing--referring to the computers at work--said "Real Name", that's so pretty."

"Thanks, but that's not what I go by."

"Well, I'm still gonna call you that anyway! Everybody else at work calls you that," he said very smugly, more determined than ever to be given the privilege of calling me by my real name.

"Sure, go right ahead. Just don't expect me to answer or be friendly to you anymore if you do," just as smug and quite rude, actually. "And the work people only call me that because I don't feel the need to correct people that I don't see in any other capacity besides work. Why should I bother to correct those who don't matter to me?"

Then he began speaking to me, the guy with the outstretched hand, and Work Boy, still chatting away at me, got drowned out by the crowd and by the headlining band warming up. I don't remember the first thing he said because it seemed insignificant to me. Naturally, I was trying to brush him off as well, since it was obvious that he was in Work Boy's group for the evening. I said something to him very rude, trying to get him to stop talking...but he didn't.

"You said you go by Angel?" he asked with a slight hesitation in his voice.

"Yes, your friend over there was calling me by my real name, but I don't like it."

"Oh," he paused, "I didn't hear what he called you anyhow." Then he whispered, "I don't really like him that much either, he just works with me."

Smiling a knowing smile at me, he continued "Well, you definitely are an angel," with a slight wink at me.

Blushing slightly now, I had nothing to counter that with, so I kept the silence.

And after a slight delay to think of something witty to say, during which I watched the band tune their instruments, "Well, I should really get back to my friend...he's probably wondering what happened to me." No wit. No interesting come back. No cute or sweet innocence shining through a soft smile. It never came. "Oh well, I don't feel very interesting tonight anyhow," to myself.

His face sank slightly with the knowledge that I had come out that night with somebody else: a man. He said nothing.

And I said something to the effect of, "Yeah, I should at least check in with him. I don't want him to think I abandoned him or anything. He's probably hitting on several hot chicks by now, but he did say he was getting me a beer, and I haven't seen him since we got here a while ago."

The hope resurfaced in his face..."Good, he knows now that we are just friends," to myself again. "Why do I care? I don't really find him that attractive anyhow." But yet, I was still watching his face change from slightly guilty--for trying to hit on a girl who had come with a boyfriend--back to the calm confidence that his energy naturally exuded, and I became a bit shy. "What makes me so intriguing to him? I'm wearing black baggy pants and a plain black shirt, neither of which are very flattering to my figure," silently to myself. "Man, why didn't I put some other cute outfit in the car, for just in case?" As it was though, I had nothing besides work clothes in my car, except for that plain black shirt and those unadorned black pants that night.

"I really need to go though."

"Well, I'll probably be over here all night. You're welcome to come back if ya like. I hope you do come back," in a hopeful and yet, still flattering tone.

"Thanks...I might. We'll see," I smiled and brushed past him looking for my friend. Glanced back once to see him watching me walk away, face slightly changed: he didn't believe me. He thought he'd already lost the game.

(To be continued...have to leave it at a point that even I want the story to continue...but I don't have the effort for the rest of the story yet...and I'm not exactly sure on which direction I want to take it yet...so stay tuned for the rest)

How to Use Lies

While watching V for Vendetta the other night, a certain quote stuck in my head. "Artists use lies to expose the truth, Politicians use lies to cover it up." How true that is! Before, I had a whole rave planned in my head around this quote to talk about, but now, it seems less than pointless. The validity of the statement evidences itself to those who truly understand the nature of fiction and writers of fiction; and of politicians and their supposed conspiracy to hide what really happens.

In other news, I like very much having my computer and my desk next to a very large window...when I get bored or am thinking heavily and look around, I can see the outside world. Even in my periperhal vision I can see it now, typing away quickly. There's something so free about it all...as if I'm not really inside my apartment at all but rather that I'm sitting outside and typing on a laptop, like all those arrogant people we see strung all over college campuses.

My whole purpose of wanting to be a writer and for writing is to do exactly that: expose the truths I know about life, love, magic, darkness, and spiritual matters in a form that most people will write off as being nothing more than an overactive imagination. I have no desire to reach those people; they have been lost for far too long for me to rescue them from oblivion. I only want to reach those who will look past the words I've written and see that I really do know, firsthand, about the things that I've presented as fiction. Thank you Stephen King, for allowing me to see that writing can be used for more than just telling a great story.

Currently Reading: The Mummy by Anne Rice.

Song in my head: Tim McGraw by Taylor Swift

On the docket: Re-reading the Dark Tower series by Stephen King.

Sorry Sports Fans

I was going to write another "episode" of my stories for all my "fans" tonight, but I'm sorry I just can't get it up for you tonight. Perhaps tomorrow or the next night. Stay tuned! More to come soon, I promise!

The past two days I've had to dig more glass out myself, and that does not make me happy...especially since I had to reopen the wounds and clean them that way. It seems to have killed the creative spirit a little.

Sidenote: I once heard a joke about an Englishman, a Scottsman, and an Irishman...tonight I was the Scottsman! Ha Ha Ha...maybe I should have actually told the joke...heh.

*thinking* Nah, keep 'em in suspense...much more fun that way! *deviant smile*

A Beautiful Couple Days (PMB)

Wisconsin winters are always cold and snowy, but the year I endured it, I refused to give up myself because of it. I found ways around being cold in the winter that still allowed me to wear cute little dresses and skirts. Knee socks can be a girl's best friend in snowy winters, and most people think they are simply adorable. I'd like to think that's what attracted him to me at first, but it probably wasn't. Actually, at first he wasn't very friendly at all...but this story isn't about that day. It's about a day much later on down the road.

I had moved back to Tennessee and he had gone "home" (place deliberately left out) as he had only been visiting Wisconsin at the time. This story is about the beautiful few days we spent together in Tennessee. He stopped by to visit me on his way to "destination afar" and to me, it was one of the sweetest things that anybody has ever done in my stead. I'd like to think that my town was on the way to where he was going, but I don't think it was. Having very little advance notice of it, I couldn't take off work off the day he arrived, but I had the next couple days off. Due to family concerns, he ended up having to cut the trip short, and though I was slightly sad about it, I understood.

While he was here though, life was beautiful for a few days: a little more spring in my step, a little more brightness in my energy and even, seemingly, in the sky around us. His smile and his eyes were what really killed me, I'll never forget that look on his face when he was smiling at me; like I was a brightly wrapped present under the Christmas Tree. I remember him telling me that his favorite part of a woman was the small of her back, because he could just put his hand there and get her to go anywhere. For him, with me it was true, even though I've found very few people who could have that kind of power over me.

We had sex quite often in that couple of days...so much in fact, that after he left the girls I worked with started to call him "the champ." And he was. It was sweaty and loud and had more "talk" involved than I was used to, but that little bit of awkwardness mattered little to me in those moments, because his facial expressions often took my breath away. I loved to watch his face change as he moved through stages of pleasure. The kissing was limited, but not because it was unpleasant in any way. It was because I'd finally found a person who realized that two people don't have to kiss the whole time during sex for it be good or exciting. Plenty of other places can be kissed as well--*raises eyebrows* he already knew that--and sometimes just watching each other's eyes can be extremely enticing.

His eyes watching me move closer into him, his passion rising as I put my hand on myself during the height of the moment, his hands firmly around my back pulling me upwards, towards his naked flesh. My hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into me as if that motion would allow him to literally fall inside my own body--always wanting to be closer to him. His lips on my ear, whispering how good it felt and various other sundries; pulling my hair enough to hurt, but what sweet pleasure the pain of it was! My fingernails dragging through the skin on his back, gritting my teeth as I dug deeper; moans escaping through clenched teeth when, in pushing in and out of me, he kept grazing past my hot spot. Biting each other a little too hard sometimes, sweet ecstasy of pain and pleasure, mixing and becoming one.

Man, it's hard to keep telling this story right now--my brain has left me to delve more into the memory...alone, damn it! I can't do this with you watching. Ok fine, that's not true, I've done that in front of people a lot...so what? Moving on...

After I came, he was still able to keep "up" which is a rare quality in men for me--most of them can't hold it after I've gone. Not him though, he always wanted me to beg for it...and usually I would. "Come on, baby...let me have it. I need it!" But if I, for some reason, didn't ask...he would. "Do you want me to come for you? Tell me you want it." And, naturally I'd oblige. *giggle*

We also spent a very lovely day wandering around Centennial Park in downtown--one of my favorite parks. We sat on the steps of the Parthenon and watched tourists come and go off of a animal shaped bus--I forget which animal now, but we both thought it was hilarious--and watched the ducks swimming around in the pond below us. We talked for hours about what he actually does at his job, and climbed around on the steps, taking pictures and laughing. I've never had so much fun in that park before, though I had been there numerous times. I remember he tried to teach me how to use his digital camera, which of course failed miserably since I'm not very technologically inclined.

Then, of course I took him to my favorite little bit of Hillsboro Village: my favorite coffee shop in town. He chatted it up with my friends there, and several other random people out on the back porch, which only made me smile at him more. I listened to him educating several people--total strangers to me--on the nature of certain political involvements and shoot the shit about nothing with people I've known for years. It was most endearing: he was intelligent and political, but could still just chill out and enjoy a cup of coffee.

Whatever I had thought of him before--which was still a fairly high estimation for a person in my life--my opinion of him changed during this couple days because of one thing: the way he was with my friends. They all loved him! And that, is a very important thing for me with a guy I like, because my friends are my judge and jury; they usually know, long before I do, when somebody is toxic for me. After dinner one night, in fact, he was talking to my best friend and said to her something that I knew I'd never forget. It was what made the time we spent together a complete package of delight in the unforgettables bank. He said, "Yeah, I really like Miss Angel here, whom the gods, for whatever reason, haven't deemed to tell me her real name." I watched her face change after he said this from judgment of him to approval, in an instant. I blushed slightly and didn't know what to say...luckily he didn't have to see me blush since I was sitting in front of him with his arms around me. I didn't know what to say, but when I looked him in the eyes right after that, I knew it didn't matter if I said nothing at all (very refreshing to meet a person who understands the value of silence in certain circumstances).

Looking back now, the whole thing feels like a dream, but a beautiful one; the kind of dream that if you get awakened from it, you try and try to "fall" back into, but never seem to be able to get there. Maybe someday the gods will bless me and let me fall back into that dream, but for now, I still remember it with fondness and an endearing heart.

Writer's block Broken

Love Just Is
By: Angel

Love Can Knock Us Down,
Or It Can Pick Us Up.
Love Can Hurt Us.
Love Can Help Us When Nothing Else Can.
Love Just Is.

We Can't Make Love Fit In a Pretty Box,
Tied up with a Perfect Bow.
We Can't Make Love Look
the way we'd like it to Look;
We Can't Make People Love Us Who Don't.
We Can't Change Love.
Love Just Is.

When it Comes to Love:
I hope You Let It In.
When it Comes to Love:
I hope You Rejoice When It Finds You,
And, eventually It Will.
When it Comes to Love:
I hope You Appreiciate It
And LOVE Love
For Everything that It Is,
And Accept What It Isn't.

When it comes to Love:
I hope You Settle For
Nothing Less than
Butterflies


**I wrote this today and thought I'd share with the people I love**

Perspective

Today I went out to try and get quarters to do my laundry. My laundry room in the complex doesn't have a quarter machine and I didn't have enough lying around the house to do the loads that needed to be done, so I decided to go get more. This was much more difficult than I expected it to be, mostly because there aren't any banks nearby to my house and, I had to walk. Now, I'm not embarassed to be walking because I know that I'm walking because I fucked up and now I don't have a car anymore. Big Deal.

So I walked towards town, hoping to find some place that would give me a roll of quarters. Most of the places I passed I suspected wouldn't carry quarters (i.e. hotels, car dealerships, pool/spa sales, insurance agencies) so I didn't stop to ask them for any and instead kept walking. I tried Jiffy Lube, and they would have given me some, but they didn't have any. And even though they were checking me out, they still were treating me differently because I was walking, not driving a car. Two more places, a shell gas station and a Napa auto parts store and the treatment got worse and worse. They were treating me like I was a beggar, a homeless bum with no house and no car. In fact, they were acting like I was just asking them to "give" me a roll of quarters, not "trade" for the $10 bill I was carrying.

Still I trudged on, feeling like I wanted to cry for being treated in such a way...but I still really did need quarters. Finally, I found a local pizza place that was willing to give me quarters, and he was friendly about it, but even he waited until I actually pulled the ten out of the clutch before he would put the roll of quarters anywhere near me.

Then, walking home, it hit me. Is this the way I treat people that I see walking? When I see somebody walking near a busy main strip of town, do I assume that they are homeless? Do I assume that they have no job and no ambition? I realize now, writing this, that sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. It depends on what they're wearing when I see them walking. If they're in a work uniform, I think, "Oh, he doesn't have a car and he still needs to work, so he's walking. Way to go!" But if they're wearing something that's a little more run-down and worn-out, I sometimes do think that they are homeless/jobless.

It's funny though...I went running this morning for the first time since the accident, and while I was doing that, nobody looked at me like I was strange or weird. I was wearing a sports bra, running shoes, and running clothes. That, apparently, is a perfectly normal thing to do thus, nobody makes any assumptions about my income, financial status, whether or not I have a home and pay my bills or whether or not I have a car. But when I *gasp* walked out along the main road in exactly the same outfit looking for quarters, the perspective changed...drastically!

Happy Memory for the Day

Today I was chatting with an old friend, who currently lives in Italy and a memory resurfaced. It was a fun and happy memory, so I thought I'd share, though I'm sure that I'll never come close to doing it the justice that it actually deserves.

The night in my mind was so much fun. Mostly I think because it felt so very wrong. It was the first time he and I had sex. We had spent the evening at a local dive bar, drinking cheap beers and talking very loudly about the prospect of having sex later. Loud enough for anybody who wasn't a total idiot--or deaf--to hear...most people, however, were doing their damnest to ignore us. We were not fooled though, we could both see it on a lot of faces that they actually were paying attention to our very loud conversation. Mostly, we were talking so loud because we both thought it was hilariously funny...for one, the idea of us even being out together at all when we had so little in common, and for two, saying as loud as possible, "Stop doing that to me," or "You really shouldn't be playing with my inner thigh": "I'm a married man." The comedic effect was too much of a temptation, too much of a naughty pleasure, not to play it up all night. And the looks on the faces of those around us when they inevitably heard "married" and very little else, and they saw our mutually guilt-free faces laughing in unison, were totally comical and we couldn't help but giggle at them. Then, when they looked at me and him like the typical "(insert town name here)" girl and "married man", thinking how immoral we both were, it was more than enough to keep up the charade/stage show all night long. Both of us sneaking glances at the other all night, and making sure to kiss or be playful just when somebody else was watching us: the entire performance was completely erotic to me and full of the guilty pleasure associated with deceiving the world. Especially since the whole night, I pretended to be embarrassed about his "marriage", and every time he said it, I would usually counter with something like, "couldn't you be a little more quiet...I know people here." But still always saying it loud enough for our watchers to overhear.

Now the story behind the married thing is way too long to document here, and not very interesting (especially since I wanted this to be a scoop of absolute pleasure), but suffice it to say we were NOT committing adultery, but we did keep saying that word also as loud as possible. The attention we kept attracting from other couples and other singles, for that matter--since we both were getting hit on just as much as we normally would have at a bar--was fabulously erotic somehow. We both kept turning down other offers from other women/men saying something like, "I'm sorry, he was trying to cheat on his wife with me tonight...can't you wait for another time?"

We stayed until the bar closed even though we were all but tearing each other's clothes off by the end of the night...but we both wanted to keep drinking cheap beers, so we did. Then, it becomes even more risque. We went to the place I was staying during that time, which was NOT my own apartment. Actually, I was staying with the sister of a friend of mine, in the friend of mine's room while she was gone. So yeah, we had sex in somebody else's bed, in somebody else's house with somebody else's dog watching the whole time. Haha. We only settled on it because we couldn't find any hotel in town with available rooms...heh. By the time we had tried about 10 different hotels, we were too impatient to keep looking, and settled on the borrowed bed.

But when we got to the house, we were trying so hard to be quiet, but it wasn't easy being that we were both pretty buzzed and both very turned on.

Then the world got very quiet in that small room. Nothing else mattered but each other, and while we started out being very concerned about the noise level, eventually we both forgot and probably got loud enough to wake up friend's sister and sister's daughter...oops. Now I feel inclined to mention that what I was expecting from this particular person and what I got were two very different things. I was expecting pretty good sex (his reputation preceded him) but no real intimacy or intensity...what I got was.......well, it was WOW! If anybody had been watching I think they would have been very hard pressed to say that we were not in love with each other (even though we weren't), because there were moments when our bodies moved with such exact timing and precision that it was like they were not separate things, but rather, one total entity. In that instance, our worlds and bodies were totally in synch. Synchronized swimmers and relay teams have nothing on that kind of intuitiveness and perfect balance of timing and spontaneity.

It was the closest I had come to actually "making love" with somebody that I wasn't actually in love with. It was almost magical, because I could totally feel all his feelings and energy and intensity absolutely coursing though my body. For what I thought was only going to be a one nighter (again, because I knew his reputation), I was expecting the usual "distance" that people radiate with when they are simply "having sex" or "fucking", but the distance wasn't there. Those who have been there know, I'm the kind of girl who always gives all I have to give when nudity and sex are involved; a person I'm with will always be able to "feel" the real me that hides inside, if they are open enough to let it in. I totally appreciated that he gave his all to it also, I guess I was just shocked to find a guy who was the same way about sex and intimacy as I am.

His lips against my skin, his hands feeling his way all the way up and down my naked body, my hands exploring every inch of him, feeling the beat of his heart all through him as I found my way to his hot spots, the moist passionate kisses that kept consuming us both, the delicate rocking of his hips against my own, the undulating motions of both our bodies climbing to the crescendo, hot breath on my neck cutting through the slightly drunken haze like a blade only to leave me stranded in an all-knowing, all-consuming haze of the unfettered passion created by the union of our two bodies.

When we fell apart, I, literally, could NOT move...at all! My body was still shaking with pleasure and passion. And during the time that I still couldn't be pressed upon to form actual words (hehe), he said something to me that I'll never forget...which is what made this a permanent part of my "memory". After the immediate, wow! and was that good for you too? He said, "Man, I haven't come like that since I was like 14, that was awesome." At first this didn't really make much sense to me, but then he explained that it was so good it felt like the first time he'd ever had sex...I got it! and was very flattered.

At any rate, I was thinking about that today while I was chatting with him online and couldn't help but smile the whole time. All the sweat and the moaning and the absolute disregard for the world around us; the soft touch of his fingers against my skin, the total control and power he had over me in that moment even without being at all forceful...damn! I'm still smiling for thinking about it.

It happened more often after that, but those aren't today's story. Perhaps I'll start a series of these memories whenever they occur to me...to document all the "unforgettable moments" I've had with all the memories that became instantaneously part of the "permanent memory" bank, but we shall see how that works out.

Damn, I feel special.

I just checked on my stat counter site, and man, I've been googled a lot lately. I'm quite impressed actually, because I've tried googling myself before and gotten nothing. This time there was three pages of sites with my online sn on them. I don't know really who did it, but I'm impressed none the less that somebody found me important enough to google. *laughing*

One down, ??? to Go.

My last post was way too accurate for its own good. I decided now, at 3 am, after the second call that I've received from the same person in one night that she and I are done being friends.

Both times all she did was scream at me, I don't mean yell, I mean scream at the top of her lungs. Both times I couldn't get a word in edgewise to say anything in my own behalf. Both times she was angry for invalid reasons. Granted, the first call was slightly justified, I was being selfish trying to get home sooner, but I felt that after losing my car to a ditch, that I had earned the right to be somewhat selfish.

But this time she accused me of doing something that I HAVE NEVER DONE!!! And that, my friends, is where I draw the line. She was hollering and screaming at me that I needed to "make this fucker go away!" She thinks that I sent something after her, and not just her but mostly after her 3-4 year old daughter. Me? Really? She thinks I fucking sent it!?!?! Sorry babe, not my style. For one, I don't send other things to do my dirty work for me. For two, I don't keep dark things like that under my control because I don't like having them around, so I wouldn't have anything to send, even if I wanted to send anything. For three, two years ago I faced off with legion head on, so that she and her daughter would never have to, and now, after all that, I'm gonna send something after both of them? Nope, sorry, it ain't me babe! (Apologies to Johnny and June) And finally, even if I were capable of doing such a thing i.e. send something else to torment her and her daughter without feeling bad, I wouldn't do something that totally heinous just because we had a small fight earlier; a fight I was willing to overlook if the next time she called she acted more adult and we talked out, instead of screamed out, what she was angry about. "No, no, no, it ain't me babe. It ain't me your looking for, babe."

But I can't say that I don't find it amusing that it happened, even though I did not do it. Perhaps when I basically wrote her off earlier, the protection that she normally had over her and her house, thanks to me, wore off, went away, bye bye, see ya later. Don't know, could very well have happened, but I definitely didn't do it on purpose (neither the sending nor the taking away the barrier). And I have no intention what-so-ever of making whatever-it-is go away for her. None. So hopefully Bill goes to her rescue, cuz I'm not going to this time. But the upswing is that I guess she finally knows now, that I really WAS the ONLY thing keeping her and her daughter protected from the shit that could fly up there. And sorry to say that Legion is not the only thing that has taken residence up there lately, and the "others" are way worse: way stronger, way meaner.

And Legion is mad as fuck that I got away from there, I wouldn't put it past him to start attacking my friends up there...sounds like something he would do. But most of my good people there are very well protected thanks to me from him. Perhaps SHE isn't anymore. Sorry about your run of bad luck. Looks like it's time to get tough or die, cuz I'm not your shield anymore. I'm sorry that you have fallen out of my light and into the hands of an enemy, but I can't keep protecting you forever. Also, with the way you've been acting lately towards me, I wouldn't want to anyway.

Those people that will walk with me when the time comes, will always have my protection, but those are the ones who don't really need it. She was totally dependent on it...sorry, guess I was right last week, no matter what she does, she won't walk with me.

For Me:

"Lord forgive me for not using my power that you've given me for good in this case. I know you've made me this strong for a reason, but I can't protect her anymore. Please forgive me for letting her fight her own fight tonight. I know you have made me the watchtower for many, but I no longer believe that she was one of those people. Please forgive me for walking away from this fight this time, because I now believe that if you had wanted me to fight this fight tonight, you wouldn't have helped me get home. And I know, I know, that you did help me get home late last night. I couldn't have done it without YOU and without those people that you have given me who protect me when I'm scared. Please forgive me for walking what I feel is my path now; forgive me for walking away from this. Please Lord, let me walk your path, always, and let the rest fall away. Let those things that are meant to leave, go on their way, either with me or without me (if that be your will). Please forgive me tonight for letting her fall away, becasue I don't know if I'll be able to forgive myself for it." Amen

And another thing

Oh yeah, and my cat, Potions bit me and howled at me again, starting the moment that I answered the phone to talk to her.

As it is, so shall it be noted.

**NOTE: written after the above blog, but backtimed to make sure that it followed it.**

Need for Speech

Tonight I felt the uncontrolable urge to blog, yet again. Though I'm not quite sure what to say first, or at all for that matter. So I'll just let it come out however it has to come.

My friends are very important to me in my life. Their opinions mean the absolute world to me. If one of my really good friends tells me that they think I'm making a terrible mistake, chances are good that I will at least re-examine what I'm doing and take into account their advice, their side of the story. But what happens when their opinions are toxic? What happens when they aren't looking out for my best interests? Should I discard the friendship or just the opinion/advice?

What if, even with all my efforts to shut them out and get them to see exactly what they are doing to me, they still keep doing it over and over again? What if they stop acting like a friend, and start behaving more like the daemons that chase me? Who do I fault: the daemon or the friend? And which is the truth: did they just change that much or did a daemon finally get to them?

On certain occasions lately, but I've taken notice enough to realize that it's only with certain people, Potions has been acting very strangely while I was on the phone...and only that way while I'm on the phone, never at any other time. He doesn't do it every phone call, or even every time I get angry, but it has been happening more and more frequently lately. He jumps out of the sleep he is usually engaged in, rushes over to me, climbs up my leg (I'm sitting down) puts his paws on my knee and starts to freak out...he meows uncontrollably and sometimes even gets angry enough to bite me...hard.

If I, and the conversation I'm having on the phone (it has to be on both ends, mind you) calm down, he stops and walks away content...if it doesn't calm down, he gets more and more adamant. He meows louder and longer; he bites me again and harder. Tonight I finally realized the trend, when he started as soon as the phone call started with a "friend" who only called to bitch at me and to call me selfish for coming back to Tennessee this week instead of waiting till the end of next week. Now, why this was a problem for her or this supposed "everybody" (her word, used with no elaboration) that she mentioned, I have no idea, because I hung up on her while she was mid-rant. After Potions bit me and I couldn't get him to calm down and I realized that I didn't care what she had to say since she couldn't talk to me like an adult anyhow, I hung up on her.

Potions stopped reacting.

I picked him up, held him in my lap for a few minutes (longer than he ever allows, and he hates being in a lap period) and let him go. He walked away and went back to camping out on my suitcase, which he's been doing since I brought it into the house--I think as a precaution against my leaving again, but I'm not sure. Then I called a really important person in my life and asked her a couple of questions that had been nagging at my brain lately. She answered them the way I expected her to answer them (but I had to check none-the-less, just to make sure that the entire world hadn't gone insane and also to let her know that I'm still having problems--it was enough) and through all this, I got no reaction what-so-ever from Potions. And then I saw it. Clearly. He only behaves like this with certain people, and only in certain situations. He doesn't like the angry me, maybe it scares him...and I don't even have to say anything sometimes for him to start this; he knows the angry me just by my energy. Either that, or he just plain doesn't like certain people in my life anymore.

Should I listen to my cat and my gut feelings or to tradition? Should I forgive and forget and move on or let all the bullshit fall into the river and wash away with the tide? Was I washed clean again by that river? Is that why I really left HER house that night: so that I could have things taken away from me that I didn't need anymore and walk up a cliff washed clean of my past?

Should I do what I always do with friends and believe the best and keep a positive outlook about them, defending them even if I shouldn't? Should I continue to be as good of a friend to them as I would like to have? . . . . . OR should I just let them fall away, like so many others have in my past and keep truckin' on with my long strange trip? (Apologies to Grateful Dead--who I have actally met, so I don't really feel all that bad about the reference).

Perhaps I won't get an answer from my friends...perhaps I'll finally figure out who my true friends are...perhaps I already know who my real friends are and I just needed to write this to figure it out for myself.

Really

really

long

pause

for

dramatic

effect.

End with a quote that came to mind.

Sex and the City quote for the day (seems appropriate inserted here): "Is it time to stop questioning."

Today is the Best

I

AM

HOME

!!!

and now, the rest of the story...a chaosian followed me all the way from wisconsin...and legion lost his power at around champaign, illinois.

home is the place where cats piss on my bed when the person who was "hired" to clean their boxes doesn't do it as often as i tell them it needs to be done. now, i have to spend the next few days cleaning my apartment...again!! to get up all the mess that the cats laid down because "somebody" didn't clean their box as regularly as it needed to be cleaned.

after tomorrow i will have no ride, no job, and a pretty boring existence...so please by all means, come and get me to do stuff...please *pouty face*. The rental car goes back tomorrow cuz i couldn't afford it any longer than that...haha.

More bumps

Today legion got the better of me again! yeah that's right bitch, i said your fucking name! what you gonna do?

Another plan to get back to my home was foiled, for various reasons, and then he finally got to her...gretchen, my wisconsin equivalent of SyScreams. Up to that point, when I tried to explain to her that there were/are things following me that she couldn't even comprehend, she laughed at me. She thought she was stronger than me, but i can't fault her for that, a lot of people do...but not only that she thought she was stronger than anything that could come after her or me...she wasn't. I needed here today really badly. It was my last hope of getting back to TN this week and have somebody else with me.

But i know now, that again, this is my fight alone...and i must face it, again, alone. Tomorrow I will try again to figure something out...but in the mean time, i need sleep or maybe i'll just go kick his ass right now. (but really, who am i kidding? i don't have the energy for that right now) Not only am i totally drained of energy (and have to try to replenish that), and have been since before the accident, but i'm also healing from some pretty severe back injuries, a slight concussion, and lots of bruises and cuts. Even if i wanted to, i couldn't take him head on again right now.

Today kiddies, we learned an important lesson....don't think that you can handle somebody else's problems until you've walked in their shoes for a day. Today, gretchen had to walk in my shoes for a bit, (because after the third time that she said that nothing would get in her way, i let her wear my charm--i.e. the only way legion or anybody else has of finding me when i don't want to be found--thus, legion found her instead of me later on in the evening) and realized that i really should NOT be doing as well as i am, cuz most people, herself included, can't handle what i put up with on a daily/weekly/monthly/yearly basis with stupid ass fucking demon pieces of shit like legion.

Healing

Today my body feels almost totally recovered from the accident, never mind that the bruises haven't gone away yet, and the glass shard wounds are still somewhat infected. guess that's what i get for not cleaning my car more often...lol. dirty glass into skin = dirty wounds even if you get glass out of skin.

my spirit however, will take much longer to heal, but i'm trying. i think i'm dealing tolerably well with the whole thing, considering the fact that I'm stuck in wisconsin with no ride. granted, i do really like wisconsin, but i'm ready to be home with my kitties again. i know they miss me, and i know that potions knew something bad was going to happen to me, cuz he was acting really strangely when i was trying to leave to come up here in the first place. I want him to know that I'm ok, and i really will be coming back home to him, just like i always promise him i will when i leave.

sometimes when i'm alone, i start to burst out into tears, but just when the sob is about to overtake me, i somehow calm myself down again. this is a bit sadder than i've been in blogs in a while, but i haven't yet reached the point where i feel i can be funny yet. maybe someday soon, i'll look around and laugh at the whole thing but for now, i'm just glad to be alive, glad to have friends who do care about me deeply and are worried for my safety and well being, glad to have friends who offer help even though there is little to be actually given (small laugh), and a little sad that i don't have my favorite car anymore, and might never again.

however, even if i do get the damned car back, i'm selling the fucking thing before i got to basic...i have no intention of keeping a car that seems to be bad luck. perhaps it was the car that saved me and these things would have happened to me anyway, but it's getting a little too suspicious for me to take any more chances on it. in wisconsin the winter i was there, the car almost skidded off a cliff and into a huge tree, i barely avoided that mess...then i did actually hit a truck tire (technically it hit me) and went spinning in circles on the interstate at 70mph and miraculously did not hit anything, but the car was pretty fucked up...then the bastard hit me while i was working fucking up my back in october of last year, now i've rolled the car (for no "apparent" reason) into a ditch/river and barely walked away from it. i've also gotten more speeding tickets in that car in the past two years than i had my whole life up to that point...the ratio is 5 to 1 by the way (5 in that car, only 1 in any other car) and i didn't speed anymore in that car than i ever did.

bruised and shaken, i am trying to dust myself off and get moving forward again, but it's hard to do sometimes. and last night i discovered that, apparently, squealing tires send me into a hard-core panic state which makes me want to throw myself out of the car...no matter how fast the car is going. no joke. wish i could laugh at that too, but this actually happened last night on the way home from the b&d night at the club. i, no joke, tried to throw myself out of the van. way to go me! (slight smile)

anybody reading this, i do need help, but i don't know what kind yet...but i'll take all the hugs and love i can get...and i do appreciate all the offers i've gotten to give any help that i need.

Distance

The recent events are pushing me further away from certain people that I know. Over the past few months, I've been getting dragged away from my loved ones...wait, scratch that...from some of my beloved friends. It is bringing me closer to others, but the more decisions I make, and the more choices I eliminate, and the more things change in my life, the more distance grows between me and them. It's very sad, and I'll be very sad to not have those people around anymore, but I'm not the same person I was, and I'll never be again...so I guess there's no helping it, unless I force them to change with me. And that too, would be nearly impossible in certain cases.

Every turn in the road brings a new horizon, every choice we make eliminates another choice, and sometimes those turns and those choices leave people behind. I guess I must learn to accept this.

News from God

So this morning at about 4 30 am...I went off the road in my car. I wish I could follow that statement with "everything's ok now." But it's not because not only did my car go off the road but it rolled over I don't know how many times, and in the process rolled off a ledge about 4 feet and into a river. Only by the grace of God did I live through that, and I was relatively unharmed. Bruises, bumps, and glass shards in most of the parts of my body, but nothing broken.

I tried after I realized that I was ok, to get my car back up near the road even though it was impossible to see through the front window with it totally cracked up, but that effort was worthless. My car just got more stuck, and not having any cell service, I hauled myself out of the wreck of my car, figuring that staying there would only encourage dying and/or not being found (especially since my car could not be seen at all from the road).

So I started walking back the direction I had just come from, not knowing how far a town was in either direction, I figured that at least I'd know where I was going back the way I'd come. Hoping to find cell service I walked and walked, and got nothing. And as if all this weren't bad enough, I'm in Wisconsin right now and at that time I was in the middle of NoWhere, WI...and it was pitch black still.

Only God knows why I was spared, Why I was relatively unharmed, Why I no longer have a car...but God indeed, was behind this. I know because with all the stuff flying around in my car when it rolled and falling out of my car when it flipped back only one thing landed in my lap: My Bible. I took the hint and took it with me when I started walking, along with my purse my camera and my phone...all of which were right nearby my seat.

So I'm walking, getting more and more scared by the minute, trying to flag down a car to maybe drive me to a nearby town where I could get service on my phone and make a call...but of course nobody was stopping or even slowing down for that matter. Wisconsin being the number one state for mass murderers, I can hardly blame them...especially with me all in black and spikes on my purse in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the morning. But I really wanted somebody to stop, cuz I was at near panic state after about a mile or so of walking and seeing nothing AT ALL! But rather than give into the panic, I kept taking deep breaths to try to calm down and just kept walking...which eventually led into praying that God would send somebody who wasn't a crazy psycho would see me and stop. God, I said, I know you've spared me for some reason from that wreck and I know I'm supposed to learn a lesson from all this, but I'm very scared, please just let someone stop and help me...and the next car that I tried to flag down, passed by me, but then slowed down and came back to get me. Turns out, it was about 15 miles to the nearest town going that way...and I didn't get cell service until we got there. But my angel let me use his phone to make a call while we were driving to Sparta.

God does have angels on earth...mine was named Ed.

Thought for the day

How do we know we've become too cynical? Or, how do we know when we've reached the point in our lives when we finally see things clearly for exactly what they are and not what we want them to be?

...When you reach the point in your life when you realize that love isn't always enough.

Sometimes we love people that are totally wrong for us and sometimes we don't. Sometimes we tell people that we love them, even if we don't...usually because they said it first and we feel obligated to say it back. Other times we really and truly love a person, and they really and truly love us back, but we just can't make the relationship work.

And then, there are those relationships where only we say I love you, and the other person doesn't say it back, but we don't mind. We don't mind because they don't freak out or get scared and run away; they don't stop calling us back; they just smile and appreciate the sentiment and kiss us. And then, at that moment, we know that they might feel it too but just don't want to say as much, or else they feel they don't have to say it because we already know. We know with their smile or their kiss, that they're really seeing us for who we are, no games. It also gives a bit of the hope that maybe, this just might work.

.................................................
What happens to us when we realize that love just isn't always enough? That sometimes we need more...what that more might be, we might not know yet, or maybe we were just stupid enough to let love go without a closing word of why.
.................................................

Maybe we're just a whole generation of people who can't settle on only one thing, I mean take ice cream for example. Baskin Robins' 31 flavors wasn't enough: Ben and Jerry's had to come out with about 100 totally different flavors than BR: and now we have places like Maggie Moo's and Marble Slab that let us build our own ice cream from the ground up, like it were a pizza or something. "Yes please, I'd like coconut ice cream with almond slices, white chocolate chips, and fresh raspberries...in a waffle cone with white choclate dip and rainbow sprinkles."

.................................................
When is enough enough?

When?

Is love really enough?


...And how will we know when to settle for the love in our life and stop looking over their shoulder for something more?

internet is back!

This is the official I now have internet at my house again post...woo hoo! I have to start a new job tonight, don't really want to work, but i guess I have to or something since i now have so much time on my hands between now and basic training...so if you are reading this, know that you may find me online more often now.